See You Soon
by serenityrayne417
Summary: "He is a person!" she yells, "He matters! He's not a fucking statistic. We promised we would be more than that." TRIGGER WARNING: Suicide and Cutting
1. Chapter 1

**XXX** **TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE AND CUTTING** **XXX**

 **Callie**

He feels cold in my arms. At least it's quiet now. No one is bothering us with stupid questions or telling us we need to leave the bathroom. I press my cheek to his hair and close my eyes with a sigh.

"You're okay," I murmur, softly stroking his shoulder with my free hand, "I won't let them touch you. You're safe now."

He doesn't speak.

"I should have been here," I whisper, voice becoming strained as tears well in my eyes, "You shouldn't have been alone for this. No one should. But I'm here now. And I won't leave you, okay? I'm right here."

* * *

 **Stef**

"Please," I say for the millionth time, "Let us talk to her. She'll respond to us—"

"Ma'am, she hasn't responded to any one that has been in there thus far…" the officer tells us wearily.

"But she's our daughter," Lena argues, looking him dead in the eye, "We know her better than any person here. What's the harm in letting us try?"

The officer looks towards the house. The lights from police cars and ambulances illuminate it against the dark night sky. "The harm is that she's armed," he explains in an exasperated tone, "And I will _not_ have any injuries or casualties on my clock that could easily be avoided. It's not safe."

"She won't hurt us," I tell him firmly, and I truly believe this, "She trusts us. Look, at this rate we'll be here until tomorrow morning. _Please_ , just let us try."

The man sighs and scrubs a hand down his face. He looks at the house once more and seems to think it over. Lena is gripping my hand so tightly that I'm sure her nails will leave marks.

"Fine," he finally says, "But we're going to do things my way. Both of you need to wear vests. I'm sending someone in with you and there will be men stationed at the door. The _second_ things get out of hand, we're coming in. Are we clear?"

"Copy that," I answer immediately, anxious to go inside already. He flags down some officers and they hand us two Kelvar vests. I help Lena put hers on before putting my own on. For me it's muscle memory, something I've been doing for years.

Once we're set, the officer hands me a walkie-talkie which I clip onto a belt loop.

"The first sign of trouble, you two come out," he instructs resolutely, "Daughter or not, we need to treat this the same way we would treat anyone else."

I grab Lena's hand, "Okay."

The officer looks up to the black sky, "God help me," he murmurs. He points to the house, "Go inside. Go."

* * *

I walk into the house first, followed by Lena and then a female officer whose last name is Rodriguez. I keep Lena behind me at all times as we go up the stairs. Like I said earlier, Callie won't hurt us, but I have an overwhelming need to protect my wife at all costs. When we reach the top of the stairs, I turn to Rodriguez.

"Wait here," I whisper, "I have my radio." Rodriguez nods and I take a deep breath before leading the way to the bathroom. I haven't been up here before, but it's easy to guess which room it is. It is the only room with light pouring out in the otherwise dark hallway. I walk cautiously and quietly. I can practically feel Lena's heart beating against my back. I pause just outside the bathroom door.

"Callie," I call quietly, "Callie, it's Mom. Mama is here, too. Can we come in?"

There's a beat of silence, "I told them to leave us alone," a hoarse whisper comes from the room.

I nod to myself, "I know, Love. They weren't listening to you. But Mama and I want to listen. We want to help you, both of you."

I hear a sob and my heart breaks, "It's too late!" I hear her cry, "You're too late!"

"It's not too late," I assure her desperately, "I know it feels like that but we can still make it right. He wouldn't want it to happen this way."

There is silence on Callie's end.

"Please, Sweetheart." Lena whispers imploringly, "Let us in."

Some time passes before we here a nearly silent, "Okay."

Lena presses her nose into the back of my neck and takes a shaky breath. I close my eyes for a moment to collect myself. I feel Lena's lips on my collarbone and my eyes flutter open. I push on the half-open door and peer inside.

 _God_.

There she is, sitting on the bathroom floor. One hand is holding him close and the other is tightly gripping a blood-stained knife. There's blood on her hands, her cheek, his arms, the floor. There is no escaping from it.

"Hi sweetheart," I greet her softly with a smile, as if there isn't a pint of liquid life spilled across the floor, "Is it alright if we sit with you guys?"

Callie looks past me and jerkily nods her head. I sink to my knees. Lena sits as well, and suddenly we've become a campfire circle of death.

"What do you need us to do?" Lena asks quietly, desperate to help.

Callie rubs her cheek, wiping away a tear and in turn leaving a smear of blood in its wake, "Nobody was there for him," she whispers, "He was all alone. I can't leave him."

"Okay," I nod, "Alright."

Callie sniffles, "He is a person!" she yells, "He matters! He's not a fucking statistic. We promised we would be more than that." The last part is whispered despondently as she traces a finger down his face.

Lena's eyes flicker to him. She's taking in the same sight that I'm taking in: the blue-gray skin, the wide eyes that don't and will never see, the vacancy of spirit. It's startling, because he was _just_ here. He was breathing and living like we are now and it's startling that he's suddenly gone. A memento mori, Lena would call it.

"Tell us about him?" I ask Callie gently, "We're right here, Love, and we're not going anywhere."

Callie's frame begins to shake from the force of her cries, "This should have never happened!"

"Tell us," I insist as Callie continues to cry. I cautiously reach my hand out until it covers the hand Callie has on his shoulder. I thread my fingers through hers and hold tight.

"Tell us about Cole."

 **Dark fic. I had this in my head more because I want to address various topics that I feel are important to discuss/raise awareness about. I'm not a doctor or anything of the sort, so I'm not in any position to offer advice.**

 **IF YOU ARE IN CRISIS:**

Call the toll-free National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at **1-800-273-TALK (8255),** available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. The service is available to anyone. All calls are confidential.


	2. Chapter 2

**XXX** **TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE AND CUTTING** **XXX**

 **Callie**

" _You're not paying attention!"_

" _Yes, I am!"_

" _You're not even looking at the screen!"_

 _I roll my eyes and look up at Cole who is shooting me a glare. I sigh and move my laptop off to the side, "I'm sorry," I apologize, "I was just editing a few photos."_

 _Cole shrugs, "It's cool," he says, "We'll just have to start over from the beginning."_

 _I scoff and hold the remote out of reach, "No way! We're already thirty minutes in!"_

" _Well you weren't paying attention so now we have to go back." He easily plucks the remote from my grasp and begins to rewind all the way back to the beginning of Star Wars as I groan. Cole shoves me with his shoulder, "You might actually like this."_

 _I shrug, "I'm not really into science-fiction."_

" _Well Star Wars isn't fiction, it's the_ future _."_

 _I chuck a pillow at Cole, which he easily catches. He presses the play button on the remote and once again I find myself reading scrolling words on the television screen. I hear the front door open and look over to see Lena walking in with some grocery bags._

" _Hi," I greet, moving to stand up, "Do you need help?"_

 _She smiles and shakes her head, "No thank you, Sweetheart. Hi, Cole!"_

" _Hi Mrs. Adams-Foster," he greets, "How are you?"_

 _Lena shrugs, "Can't complain, you?"_

" _Good, thanks._

" _Are you staying for dinner?"_

 _Cole raises his eyebrows, "Um…"_

" _We would love to have you," Lena continues earnestly._

 _Cole nods with a gracious smile, "I would love to stay for dinner."_

" _Great! I'll be in the kitchen if either of you need me." Lena walks off and then it's just the two of us. Cole has a far-away look on his face. I lay my hand on his arm._

" _Hey." He looks up at me, "Are you okay?"_

 _Cole nods, "Yeah, it's just…" he sighs, "You really lucked out with your moms, Callie. Do you know that?"_

" _Yeah," I answer softly, "I do. I couldn't think of anything better for me and Jude." I tuck my feet underneath me, "Have you talked to your parents?"_

" _I'm meeting with them this week," Cole tells me, "I'm pretty nervous. We haven't talked in almost a year," he sighs, "I mean, the fact that they even want to talk to me is amazing."_

" _It's good," I assure him, "I hope things go well for you. And I'm here for you, okay?"_

 _Cole nods with a smile, "I know, thanks." He reaches for the remote and begins to rewind again. I snatch the remote from his hand and hold it away._

" _Stop rewinding!" I scold, "Can we just watch the movie?"_

" _We were talking!" Cole argues grabbing the remote back, "The beginning is crucial to understanding the movie!"_

 _I rest my head on the armrest of the couch and kick my feet into Cole's lap, "You suck. I hope you know that."_

 _Cole sits back and puts his hands behind his head with a smirk, "I can live with that."_

* * *

"His favorite movie is Star Wars," Callie begins, "He made me watch it with him. He kept going back to the beginning because he thought I wasn't paying attention. It was so annoying." She wipes her nose on her hand, "He likes it because it was such an amazing movie for its time. It's amazing today, too, but could you imagine when it came out? The effect it had on people in theaters? It pushed creative limits. It was a masterpiece."

Callie adjusts her grip on Cole, "He told me when he was little, for every birthday until he was around thirteen, he would wish for the same thing. He wanted the life he was meant to have; he wanted to start from the beginning but with everything the way it was supposed to be." Her eyes slip clothes and she lets out a sigh that seems to come from deep within her. It's equal parts sadness and resignation.

"Callie," I call her name softly, "We can't stay here, Love, do you understand?"

"I'm not leaving him!" Callie shouts loudly, redoubling her hold. I see Lena jump in my peripheral vision, "I promised him I would be there for him! I already failed him once. I can't…" she trails off as tears make their way down her face.

Lena clears her throat, "Callie, your friend Cole? That isn't him. That's just a…vessel," she says, gesturing at the huddled teens as she tries her best to explain, "What made him who he was, his essence, is no longer here. And it hurts, Honey, I know. It hurts to know you won't talk to him again or see him again. I know you want to protect him, but this isn't the way. You loved Cole, and he knew that. He was never alone and he never will be, not as long as you keep him in your heart."

Callie shakes her head and I see her grip loosen marginally on the knife, "Please, Sweetheart," Lena pleads, "Let him go. We're not asking you to forget him. We don't mean for this to negate his existence. We know he was a person, we _know_ that. But you need to let him go."

Finally, we see her resolve begin to deteriorate. Callie drops her head so that her forehead touches Cole's, "I'm so sorry," Callie whispers into his hair, "Please know that." She presses her lips to his forehead and allows them to linger for a moment.

Sensing the shift in mood, I cautiously crawl over to Callie. I wrap my hands around the hand that grips the knife and carefully pry it out of her fingers. I hand it to Lena who places it out of the way.

Callie is sobbing, each cry threatening to rip her apart, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" she weeps repeatedly. I wrap my arms around Cole and gently pull him away from Callie. I lie him down on the floor and close his eyes. Callie has her arms wrapped around her knees; her cries show no signs of stopping soon.

I pull her into me and her fingers grab desperately at my arms and vest. She presses her forehead to my jaw and sobs into my neck, hot tears splashing against my skin. I pull her into my lap and rock her like I would have if I had known her as a baby. Each cry is painful, raw, and yanked from within. I rest my forehead against my daughter's, "We'll get through this," I tell her determinedly, looking into her dark eyes, "I know it feels impossible right now, but we will get through this, Callie." She continues to cry in my arms. I look over at Lena who has tears escaping as well.

"Lena," I say quietly, "Will you stay with Cole while I bring Callie outside?"

"Of course," she breathes. She scoots closer to him and takes his hand in hers. The stark difference in their skin colors is striking.

"Callie," I murmur into my daughter's ear as I gather her close, "Mama is going to stay with Cole. You and I are going to go outside, okay?"

Callie lifts her head up, and seeing Lena's hand gripping Cole's, nods. I help her to her feet and we carefully navigate around Cole. I lead her out into the hallway and towards the stairs where Officer Rodriguez has been waiting. She raises an eyebrow at me and I nod. She begins speaking into her radio as we descend the staircase. Paramedics and police officers run past us as we exit the house.

"Transgender male, sixteen years old," I hear an officer chatter into his radio as he passes us.

"Suicide, D.O.A."

 **First of all: yay! Gay marriage is FINALLY legal in ALL fifty states! I was so caught off guard by the news—I am not one to take interest in news/government decisions. I truly believe that by the time my generation (current college students) comes to raise their own families/live their own lives, tolerance and acceptance will be more wide-spread and that makes me very happy.**

 **To my L's, G's, B's, T's, Q's, A's, and everyone up, down, around and in between—congratulations.**

 **All my love,**

 **-Liv**

 **P.S.- I promise the chapters will get longer**

 **IF YOU ARE IN CRISIS:**

Call the toll-free National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at **1-800-273-TALK (8255),** available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. The service is available to anyone. All calls are confidential.


	3. Chapter 3

**Callie**

" _What about this?"_

 _I make a face as I take the shirt Cole holds up in front of me, "I don't know…what's with you and flannel? There are other kinds of shirts, you know."_

 _Cole glares at me, "Fine, how about_ you _pick something out?"_

" _Fine."_

 _I get off of Cole's bed and begin to rummage through his drawers. After a moment I pull up a blue flannel shirt and toss it too him, "I like this one," I say, "It complements your eyes and you can wear black jeans. Done."_

 _Cole pulls a face, "I don't like black, its such a depressing color." He holds up the shirt to examine it and lays it on his bed, "But this outfit isn't terrible. Thank you."_

 _I close the drawer and lean on the dresser, "Are you nervous?"_

 _Cole sits on his bed and looks out the window, "I don't know…I guess." He shrugs, "I can't go in there with high hopes, because I'll just be disappointed."_

" _Well you can't go in there with low expectations, either," I tell him, "That's just as bad."_

" _So what do I go in there with?"_

 _I shrug, "A happy medium: your parents will talk to you, but they might not accept you. But that's okay, because you have a ton of people who have your back."_

 _Cole smiles and nods to himself, "Yeah." He stands up, "Come on. I need to iron my clothes."_

" _It doesn't take two people to iron."_

" _Callie."_

 _I sigh dramatically as I push off of the dresser, "Fine," I say grabbing the clothes, "But after, you're helping me with my photography project."_

 _Cole leads the way to the laundry room, "What's the assignment?"_

 _I follow him down the rickety stairs, my converse making the wooden planks creak, "Identity."_

* * *

 **Lena**

I hold Cole's hand even after Stef takes Callie out of the room. He is not my child, but he is someone's child. And god forbid this happened to my child, I would hope someone would stay with them. I would hope they weren't alone. A moment of peace barely passes before a swarm of policemen and paramedics enter the bathroom.

"Shit…" an officer mutters as he takes in the gruesome scene.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and I look up to see a paramedic, "Ma'am, I need you to step back." I turn my gaze to Cole once more. I bring his hand to my mouth and kiss it before letting go and moving away. Someone helps me stand up and moves me towards the door. I walk down the stairs and out the front door to the chaotic scene on the front lawn. There is a plethora of police officers, paramedics, CSI personnel and a number of nosy neighbors.

I scan the crowd for my wife and daughter. I spot Stef near the car. She is talking to someone, nodding a lot. I can see Callie sitting in the backseat, staring off. I tear off my vest and toss it to the nearest person while I head over to my family.

"…what will happen?" I catch the tail end of Stef's question. Seeing me, she brings me into a tight embrace, "Are you okay?" she whispers quietly and I nod against her.

"With no personal claim, the body will most likely be cremated by the state and buried," the man answers not unkindly. He is more or less stating facts.

I pull away from Stef and shake my head, "But…" I begin to argue.

"We'll take care of it," Stef says before I can get another word out, "We'll give him the funeral he deserves. Who do I need to speak to?" I smile tearfully at Stef, more grateful and full of love than I can put into words.

The man scribbles down some information on his notepad, tears out the sheet and gives it to Stef, "You can call tomorrow," he says, "For now…" he looks sadly into the car, "Please, take your daughter home."

* * *

 **Stef**

We drive home in silence, save for the shuddering breaths that escape Callie from the backseat. Lena is sitting next to her, holding her hand and whispering into her ear. I can't hear what she's saying but I trust it's all good. We're pulling into the driveway minutes later. The clock on my dash tells me it's a few minutes to four in the morning.

I get out of the car and so does Lena and Callie. We walk inside quietly, closing the door and locking up behind us. Brandon is sitting on the couch with the T.V. nearly on mute. We told him we had to leave the house in case anybody else woke up and couldn't find us. Seeing his sister's appearance, the blood on her hands, his eyes widen.

"It's okay," I tell him quietly, rubbing his back, "Go to bed."

Brandon looks reluctant but eventually turns off the T.V. and begins to head upstairs. He shoots us one more worried look before disappearing entirely. I look at Callie, who still has blood on her face and hands and who can't seem to stop shaking. I take her hand and together we ascend the stairs with Lena close behind. I lead her to the kids' bathroom, making sure to drag in the basket of laundry from the hallway and locking each door afterwards.

I turn on the shower and wait for it to reach a decent temperature. I hold open the curtain, "Get in."

Callie looks at me and then gets into the tub, clothes and all. I kick of my shoes and get in as well. I position Callie beneath the stream of water and begin to wipe away at the blood with my hands. A cloud of pink swirls beneath our feet before disappearing down the drain. Lena reaches into the shower and grabs a washcloth and soap. She squeezes soap onto the towel and wets it before ringing it out and getting to work on Callie's hands.

I turn Callie around so that her back is to me, "I'm going to take off your shirt," I warn her gently, my mouth near her ear, "Let me know if I need to stop." As delicately as possible, I lift the wet garment off of her and hang it over the edge of the tub so that she's left in her pajama pants and bra. Lena has moved on from Callie's hands to her face. The blood leaves a slight tinge on the yellow washcloth.

I'm focused on Callie's hair when I hear the sob. Lena is forced to stop when Callie moves her hands away to cover her face. I sigh and draw Callie into me, her back colliding with my front. I rest my head on her shoulder and close my eyes for a moment.

I'm so tired.

Lena steps away from the shower and dries off her hands . She picks up some clothes from the laundry basket and sets them on the closed toilet seat. She comes back over and reaches her hand into the shower to turn the handle and stop the water. At least we got the blood off: that was the main goal.

Lena hands me a big towel and I wrap it tightly around Callie. I bring up a corner to wipe at her hair and eyes. I help her out of the tub and make her sit on the ledge. Lena and I get to work, pulling off wet clothes and putting on dry clothes in their place. Once Callie is dressed, I pull on dry clothes myself. When we're all done, I sit back and just breathe for a moment.

"Do you want to go to sleep?" Lena asks Callie in a hushed voice, resting a hand on our daughter's knee.

Callie shakes her head no and sucks in a breath. She looks down at her hands, first at her palms and then at the backs, "Can…" she begins hesitantly. She licks her lips, "Can I just sit? I just want to sit for a minute."

I tug on Callie's arm until she's on the floor, in my lap. I huddle her close like a small child and rest my cheek on her damp hair, "We can sit." Lena moves to the other side of Callie. She reclines on the floor, back supported by the bathtub and head resting near Callie's hip. I see her eyes slip close. I know she is as tired as I am.

"You don't have to stay with me," Callie lets us know quietly, but the way her fingers tighten around the fabric of my shirt contradicts her words. I look at Lena, who can't be comfortable on the floor but shows no signs of moving any time soon, and then at Callie, who looks so lost and confused. I double my hold on her and close my eyes.

"We know." I reply simply.

 **I am SO happy I'll be starting work next week. I have been beyond bored at home. Please review—thank you for the encouragement so far :)**

 **-Liv**

 **IF YOU ARE IN CRISIS:**

Call the toll-free National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at **1-800-273-TALK (8255),** available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. The service is available to anyone. All calls are confidential.


	4. Chapter 4

**Callie**

" _Cole, you can't keep them waiting."_

"I'm not, I came a few minutes early."

 _I pace around the backyard as I talk to him on my cellphone, "I can't imagine how scary this is for you, but think about it this way: by this time tomorrow, it will be over and done with."_

 _There's a moment of silence._

"What if…what if this is a good-bye?" _he whispers through the line,_ "What if they just want to meet with me to tell me they never want to see me again?"

" _Then you say good-bye," I tell him gently, "And you walk out of there with your head held high and when you're far away you yell 'FUCK THEM!' and kick over a trash can or something. And then you come see me and I'll help you feel better."_

 _Cole chuckles,_ "You're so weird."

 _I smile, "Yeah, and you chose to be friends with me, so what does that say about you?"_

 _There's a measure of silence._

"I'm going to go now," _Cole says, and I can hear the fear in his voice,_ "Wish me luck."

" _Good luck," I tell him, "And when you're done call me and we'll meet up, okay?"_

"Okay."

" _You've got this," I assure him in a confident tone, "It's going to be fine."_

"Thanks Callie. For everything. I'm going to hang up now, okay?"

" _Okay. I'll see you soon, right?"_

"Yeah. See you soon."

* * *

I blink my eyes open and notice the light pouring into bathroom. It's morning. I flick my eyes up at Stef and see that she is still asleep. I assume Lena is asleep, too, because it's pretty quiet. I close my eyes and let out a breath.

Last night was a shit show.

Stef begins to move and I pretend to be asleep. I feel her run her fingers over my brow, by cheek, through my hair, "Lena," she whispers. I feel Lena move off of me and I assume she is sitting up.

"What time is it?" she asks sleepily. I hear her yawn.

"I don't know," Stef answers in a low voice, "Early, I think. I don't think I slept much."

Lena sighs, "None of us did." I feel her hand on my back, "Our poor baby. And Cole…my God. I didn't realize…" she trails off.

"No one did," Stef says quietly, "Rita is beside herself."

"Where are the girls?" Lena asks, and I wonder too, because Girls United was a crime scene last night. Nobody could stay.

"They're been put in different group homes in the area but they should be back this afternoon, after they clean up the house."

I hold in a shudder.

"How did Callie know?" Lena wonders aloud.

Stef adjusts her hold on me, "I'm not sure," she whispers, "Maybe Cole texted her?"

"This is too much," Lena breathes, voice heavy with sorrow. I hear her sniff, "He was so _young_."

"I know," Stef quavers in reply, "God, I know."

I blink my eyes open and look at Stef until she looks at me, "Hi," I whisper as a simple way of greeting.

She smiles sadly, "Hi." I expect her to let me go, because I can't imagine this position is very comfortable, but she doesn't. The three of us sit there, in silence.

I feel like I should say something.

"I'm sorry," I apologize desperately, hoping they can understand, "For last night. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have—"

"You didn't want him to be alone," Lena interrupts me before my thoughts overwhelm me, "We understand."

I press my face into Stef's shoulder, "What will happen?" I wonder aloud, "To his body?"

"There will be a funeral," Stef discloses vaguely.

"With what family?" I counter bitterly, anger threatening to burn me from the inside out as I recall what his parents made him do.

Lena rubs her hand up my back, "You," she supplies, "Us. Everyone at Girls United."

"It's not enough," I inform them despondently and defiantly.

"Why not?" Stef challenges, tipping my head up with her finger.

I blink back tears, "It just isn't." I move out of Stef's embrace and slowly get to my feet. I walk over to the sink, turn on the tap, and begin to wash my hands. I don't see the blood, but I feel it. It's hot and sticky and red. I pump soap into my hands and continue rubbing my hands back and forth under the steady stream of water.

More often than not, the life of a foster kid ends in misery. Usually not the young kids—people _want_ to adopt young kids and babies. The older ones? We're pretty much fucked the second our name is entered into the system. Nobody wants a moody thirteen year old or an opinionated sixteen year old. They want someone they can manipulate, someone who can't say 'help' or 'no'. They're so much easier to control.

It's not like that stupid movie, _Annie_ , where she miraculously falls into the lap of some rich bastard and suddenly her woes have disappeared. It's not like that at all. Kids like them—like _me_ —end up in jail or homeless or dead. We turn to drugs, prostitution, gangs…anything to _feel_. We live day to day. There is no such thing as a future. There is no point in daydreaming about one, either, because that shit will turn on you in a second and as soon as they have you in a fucking daze they pull the rug out from under you (what's left of it, that is) and you're left alone, once again.

I jump when I feel a hand on my shoulder. Stef has come up behind me. She reaches over me to turn off the sink. My hands feel weird from rubbing them under the water for so long. I dry them on the hand towel, taking more time than necessary because I'd rather not talk to my moms.

I'd rather not talk to anyone.

"Can I go to bed?" I ask, not making eye contact, "I'm really tired." I suppose it's about eight in the morning. It's Sunday, and I don't have anywhere to be. No one does.

Stef and Lena look at each other. Lena looks at me and nods and I unlock the door to my room and close it quietly behind me. Mariana is still asleep. I walk over to my bed where the covers are still flung back. I left in a hurry last night. I crawl into my bed and pull the covers up over my head. It's confining, but in a comforting kind of way.

It's funny to think that everyone will wake up, not knowing the events that transpired last night. They'll have no idea somebody died. Well, everyone but Stef, Lena, and maybe Brandon. I don't know what they told him.

I press my face into my pillow. It will probably be for an hour or two, but I can pretend like nothing happened. I can pretend that he is alive, and that part of me didn't die with him and that we will both be just fine.

* * *

 **Jude**

Something happened.

It isn't spoken aloud, but I can sense it. Lena and Stef are being really quiet. They haven't said much aside from 'Good morning' and making sure we have breakfast. Brandon is acting weird too—he keeps looking at moms, as if waiting for them to say something. Mariana enters the kitchen followed by Jesus. I haven't seen Callie yet, which is weird because she's usually ready pretty early.

But I don't say anything.

Once everyone is seated and has eaten something, Stef clears her throat. We look at her expectantly. She takes a deep, shaky breath, "Last night, Callie's friend Cole committed suicide."

My heart drops.

Mariana gasps and covers her mouth with her hand, "But…" she begins, "But we just saw him when we had dinner the other day. What…why?" Stef shakes her head. I don't think she knows why, either.

"Callie is pretty upset," Lena tells us softly, grasping Stef's hand, "She didn't take it very well. She's looking at a rough couple of days so we need to be patient and supportive."

Brandon nods, "When is the funeral?"

"I'm not sure yet," Stef answers, "But we're going to figure everything out today, alright?"

Jesus looks around, "Where is Callie, by the way? When did she find out?"

"She found out last night," Stef answers, an ominous tone coating her words. I think there is more to her words but she doesn't go any further.

"What do we do?" I ask quietly.

"Like I said, be patient and supportive." Stef reiterates with a small, sad smile.

"I know I've said it before, but I'm going to say it again," Lena announces seriously as she looks at each of us, "If any of you ever—I mean _ever_ —feel like you don't have any other option but to end your life, I want you to promise me you'll talk to someone. If not me and mom, then Mike, your grandparents, a teacher… _anyone_. Promise me."

We all promise her and she lets out a breath.

"I'm not sure what our day will be like," Stef presses on, bringing up a hand to rub the back of neck, "Or the next couple of days, for that matter. But bear with us, alright?" We all nod.

I bite my lip, "May I be excused?"

Stef looks at Lena for a moment before facing me and nodding, "Sure, Bud." I'm sure they know I want to go see Callie. I climb up the stairs and walk quietly down the hall to the girl's room. I peer inside and see a lump beneath Callie's duvet. I hesitantly walk inside.

"Callie?"

She doesn't answer.

I pull back the covers and crawl in before pulling them back over our heads. It's warm and dark underneath the blankets. Callie is facing away from me but I know she's awake. I wrap my arms around her and rest my head near hers. A few seconds later her hand moves and grasps mine.

"Are you okay?" I question quietly.

She sniffs.

"No."

I settle against her, "Okay."

 **I started work this week. Let me sum it up this way: I could sleep for the next 100 years, and it still wouldn't be enough. Also, my allergies are manifesting themselves into a cold so I'm that person with a cough and a sweatshirt on when it's close to ninety degrees.**

 **My struggle.**

 **-Liv**

 **IF YOU ARE IN CRISIS:**

Call the toll-free National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at **1-800-273-TALK (8255),** available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. The service is available to anyone. All calls are confidential.


	5. Chapter 5

**Callie**

 _I check my phone again for what has to be the twelfth time. It's been two hours since I got off the phone with Cole and he hasn't called or texted me. I can't decide if the fact that it's taking so long is a good thing or a bad thing._

 _Hopefully not bad._

" _Callie."_

 _I look up to see Mariana peeking her head into our room, "Dinner is ready."_

 _I nod, "I'll be right down." She leaves and I look at my phone again. Resolve breaking, I open my message app and type out a text._

 _ **To: Cole**_

 _ **R u still there? What's going on?**_

 _I place my phone on my nightstand and head downstairs to eat with my family. I'm trying not to worry, but it's weird that I haven't heard from him yet._

 _I just hope everything is okay._

* * *

I open my eyes and turn over in my bed. I glance at my clock and see that it's close to twelve in the afternoon. I notice Mariana sitting on her bed, typing away on her laptop. When she catches me looking at her, her eyes widen and she pauses in her movements.

"Hey," she chirps quietly, and I can tell by the way she speaks to me she knows what happened. She closes her laptop and moves it aside. She gets off of her bed and sits next to me on mine.

"Moms told us," Mariana admits as a way of explanation, "I'm so sorry, Callie."

I nod and look down at my hands. I don't trust myself to speak without crying.

"Are you hungry?" she asks next, wringing her hands, "We ate breakfast already but I'm getting hungry again."

I push the blankets off of my body, "Okay," I manage to croak without bursting into tears.

We head downstairs to the kitchen. The house is quiet, which is weird for a Sunday. I expect to hear Jesus and Jude playing video games, Brandon playing the piano, and Mariana jabbering away on the phone. But instead I hear silence. I settle down at the table as Mariana grabs some plates and a knife. She sits across from me and begins to cut up apples and bananas.

"Where's Stef and Lena?" I ask her, reaching for some fruit and bringing it up to my mouth.

Mariana jerks her head to the right, "Living room," she tells me, "They're…making some calls."

"About the funeral?"

"Yeah."

I bite a piece of apple and look in the direction of the living room. Where do we even begin? I was only nine when my mom passed away so I had minimal involvement in planning the service. Do we do it in a church? I'm pretty sure he wasn't religious… Who do we invite?

Mariana grabs two water bottles from the fridge and hands me one. I've noticed that Mariana has an overwhelming need to 'fix' things when they aren't right. She likes when everyone and everything is good and happy, so I let her do what she needs to do to feel better, even if that means hovering over me.

"Hey, girls," Stef enters the kitchen with two empty glasses. She places them in the sink, "Callie, can you come to the living room when you're done?"

I push away from the table and give Mariana a weak but grateful smile, "Thanks," I tell her simply and follow Stef into the living room. Lena pats the spot next to her on the couch and I sit. Stef takes a seat on my other side.

"We just want to check in," Lena explains, resting her hand on my knee.

"I'm okay," I tell them both, "I didn't mean to freak out yesterday. I'm sorry."

Stef shakes her head, "You don't have to apologize, Callie. This must be very difficult for you."

I shrug and push some hair behind my ears, "So, what's happening?" I change the subject, instead shifting focus to the body and the burial.

"I just got off the phone with Rita," Stef informs me, folding her hands, "She is going to come to the house later on so we can start planning Cole's funeral. The girls will be back at Girls United by late afternoon."

"That's good," I state before falling silent. I clear my throat, "I should probably get dressed…" I don't like this. I feel like they want me to talk more about last night but I don't want to talk. I just want to forget.

Lena nods, "Yeah, go ahead, Honey." I shoot off the couch and head up to my room. As I leave, I hear the whispers.

"Lena…"

"I know. We're getting there."

* * *

 **Stef**

I feel so bad for Rita. It's plain by the look on her face how much agony she is in.

We're sitting at the dining room table going over the funeral plans. Lena walks in with a tray of mugs and hands them out appropriately. She takes a seat next to me, "What do we need?"

"I know a church," Rita tells us, sliding a piece of paper towards me, "Cole wasn't religious but this particular church has always extended the utmost kindness and tolerance towards the LGBTQA community."

I pick up the printed paper and look over the listed details, I nod and smile, "This looks good, Rita."

"How is Callie, by the way?" she asks quietly, picking up her coffee, "Last night was rough."

I sigh, "She's…Callie." I offer as a means of explanation, "She's been pretty quiet since last night."

Rita sighs, "I see. She's resilient, but even resilient people can only take so much. I was thinking of people to deliver the eulogy, and I really think it should be Callie."

Lena's eyebrows raise, "Oh?"

"She and Cole connected," Rita remarks, "It was rough in the beginning but once they got along they were good friends. She knew him better than the other girls did."

I nod, "I'll suggest it to her," I promise, "I'll she what she thinks about it." For the next half hour, we sit together and plan the service. We have the church, a flower shop, and a beginning list of people to invite. We are working out the actual burial when we hear footsteps on the stairs. Down comes Callie, looking very unsure of herself.

"Hi, Callie," Rita greets, standing up. Callie walks over and Rita extends her arms for a hug, "How are you?" Rita asks softly.

Callie shrugs in reply, arms slung loosely around Rita. She looks at the papers we have on the table, "How is it going?"

"We've gotten a lot done," Lena replies, "Just a few more things we need to do."

Rita puts her hand on Callie's shoulder, "Actually, I was thinking of something. I want you to do the eulogy."

Callie visibly flinches. Her eyes widen in surprise and she looks absolutely stunned, "Me?" she chokes out, "Why?"

"Because you knew Cole the best," Rita answers plainly, "I can't force you to do something you don't want to do, but I really think Cole would appreciate it."

Callie looks at the ground and blinks rapidly, "I'll let you know," she mumbles quietly. She lifts her head, "Are the girls back?"

Rita nods, "Yes. They're back with Michelle. We're having grief counselors come by today." She checks her watch, "I actually need to be going so that I can be there." Lena and I get up to walk Rita to the door and Callie lags behind.

"If you need anything at all, call us." Lena tells Rita with sincerity.

Rita nods gratefully. She looks at Callie, "Take care of yourself." I close the door behind her and we walk back into the dining room.

Lena and I sit and Callie lingers near the entrance way for the dining room. I watch as she opens her mouth and closes it, before finally asking, "What would I say? For the eulogy?"

I tilt my head, "You would talk about Cole, and what made him, _him_. You can talk about what he liked, memories you have of him…it doesn't have to be perfect."

Callie traces her fingers over the tablecloth, "And if I don't do it?" she asks, eyes downcast.

"Then the priest will speak instead," I tell her.

Callie looks affronted, "Without even knowing him?" she sputters, head whipping up, "That doesn't make any sense."

I shrug apologetically, "That's the way it is, Love," I sigh.

She walks away.

Lena rests her head in her hand, "She won't say his name."

I turn to her with a raised eyebrow, "Come again?"

"Callie," she explains, eyes moving in the direction our daughter just left in, "She hasn't said Cole's name."

I think back to last night and today and realize with a start that she's right. Callie has yet to say Cole's name. That's…I don't know how to describe it.

"Why?" I wonder aloud.

Lena purses her lips, "I can't say for sure," she begins cautiously, "But it might a way of distancing herself from the situation. By not saying his name, she doesn't have to confront her emotions. The person who died is a nameless unknown, instead of her friend." Lena stands up and begins to collect the mugs, "But I can't say for sure."

"Well your guess is as good as any psychologist," I comment, tipping my hat at her PhD, "She obviously has to deal with his death but after the way she reacted last night…" I shake my head.

Last night was a wreck. I don't know what was more disturbing: the way the police officer described the situation to me or the fact that Callie, _once again_ , slipped out of the house without either of us noticing. I have half a mind to install alarms on every door and window in the house.

"Well we can't ignore it because we're afraid of her reaction," Lena counters, walking into the kitchen as I dutifully follow, "The longer we wait to address this, the worse it will become for her." She puts the mugs in the sink and looks out the window to the backyard. She turns to me and gestures her head and I come up behind her to look. Callie is sitting on the grass, aggressively tearing the blades of green and sprinkling and then gently sprinkling them behind her.

I rest my chin on Lena's shoulder, "Okay," I say, and kiss her cheek, "So where do we begin?"

* * *

 **I know it's been close to a year since I updated this story. This year has been a lot. I lost my writing motivation but I'd like to get it back.**

 **Updates on me! Since I last posted I:**

 **-studied in Washington D.C. for a semester**

 **-started driving (which is news because I'm twenty years old…yeah)**

 **-made the decision to commute to college (horror story roommates, good grief)**

 **-started playing the ukulele**

 **How have you all been? Anything to report on? ;)**

 **All the best,**

 **Liv**


End file.
